


Graphite and Ink

by AudreyXuan



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is an Eng/Poli Sci major, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Reader has anxiety/insecurity, Reader is an arts major
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 03:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17521568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyXuan/pseuds/AudreyXuan
Summary: Reader is an art major and avid sketcher who loves nothing more than sketching Alexander Hamilton, the most talented person on campus. Let’s just hope and pray he never finds out.





	Graphite and Ink

_Move_ , you willed him. _Move your damn head!_ You had almost finished the sketch. All you needed was for him to tilt his head back away from you so you could do his hair. Alexander Hamilton had these amazingly luscious locks that somehow always looked better than yours. But it was times like these, when you were silently sketching him, that you cursed his hair for being so thick and shiny. You shimmied a little closer and picked up your pencil, trying (and failing) to capture the way the sunlight bounced off his chestnut mop. All of a sudden, he ran his hand through his hair, knocking you over with his elbow.

“Whoa! (Y/N)! Sorry! Are you okay?” Alex pulled you up and put a hand on your shoulder.  
  
You immediately pulled away from his touch and rubbed your head. “I–I’m fine. Thanks,” you replied, giving him a shy smile.  
  
“I’m really sorry,” he apologised. “I didn’t know we had gotten so close.” He winked at you as your heart stopped for a minute.  
  
You tried to stutter out a response, but were interrupted by Alex’s group of friends, all very good-looking and all very popular.  
  
A curly-haired, freckled boy plopped himself down next to you, out of breath. “Alex! This kid won’t stop talking about how he’s going to get together with his friends and start an All Lives Matter rally! We need you! ” John Laurens was Alex’s best friend and the leader of the university’s Social Equity club.  
  
“It can’t be that urgent, can it? I’ll be there in a min–”  
  
_“He’s wearing a Trump for Prez t-shirt.”_  
  
Alex jumped to his feet, his face turning scarlet. “The minute I see him, I swear–”  
  
John cleared his throat. “Um, the girl.”  
  
“Oh, of course.” Alex scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe, as an apology, I could take you out for coffee this evening?”  
  
Was Alexander Hamilton, maybe the most handsome, possibly the smartest, and definitely the guy you had a huge crush on, asking you out? No. This couldn’t be possible. He was a English and Poli Sci double major with offers from nearly every major law school in the country, and here you were, barely passing an arts course. This had to be some kind of prank. It had happened to you once before in high school, so why not now? No. You wouldn’t fall for this.  
  
“Uh, I can’t. Sorry. I have to, um, study.” You immediately felt dizzy. You had one shot, and you threw it away!  
  
“Rejected!” Hercules Mulligan, one of Alex’s best friends, called out, as he sauntered up.  
  
Alex turned away, clearly disgruntled. “Whatever. It’s no big deal. I had debate club anyway. Let’s go kick some white supremacist ass.”  
  


* * *

  
If you couldn’t focus on your drawing before, there was no way in hell you could now. 

He had asked you out. Why had you said no? It was the same reason you hadn’t tried out for high school plays and never went to prom. Fear. Rejection. Anxiety. You had passed up too many good things because you were worried they wouldn’t work out. Just add Alexander Hamilton to the list.  
  
You let out a deep sigh. Maybe a change of scenery could do you some good. Your notebook went in your messenger bag, along with your phone and wallet. You were too poor to afford a car, so any place farther than two kilometres away was out of the question. The campus library would have to do. It wasn’t bad there–in fact, you volunteered in the mornings–but after 6 pm, it would get loud, crowded full of students who certainly weren’t there to study.  
  
After grabbing a coffee, you mad your way to your favourite spot, a quiet corner on the top floor that looked out over the city, only to find _him_ sitting there.  
  
“Alex? What are you doing here? Don’t have you debate?”  
  
He barely looked up from his laptop. “You know you don’t own this corner, right? Just because you volunteer here doesn’t mean–never mind.”  
“How did you know I volunteer here? I don’t think I’ve ever told you.” A hundred thoughts raced through your head, but whenever Alex was around, you couldn’t process them.  
  
“I said forget it!” Alex slammed his laptop shut and walked into you, knocking you over for the second time today. This time, however, your sketchbook fell out of your hands and onto the floor, laying open on a drawing you had done of Alex the day you first saw him. To this day, it was still your best.  
  
“(Y/N), what is this?” He bent down and picked up the journal, thumbing through the pages before stopping on the tracing you had made this morning. “Did you do this?”  
  
You felt blood rushing to your head and a ringing in your ears. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear, I just–”  
  
“You’ve been watching me.  Drawing me. Since the day we first met.”  
  
By this point, you were on the verge of crying. “I know I’m awkward, okay? I know that I’m just an outcast, a weirdo, and you’re over there with your joint honours and three million scholarships. What can I do? Draw? Barely. I don’t even know if I’m gonna graduate! Look at you. You’re amazing. Intelligent, talented, gorgeous. You’re gonna go on to change the world. And I’m just… me.”  
  
You cast your head down shamefully, instantly regretting every word you said. Gently, slowly, Alex put two fingers under your chin and raised your eyes to meet his.  
  
“(Y/N)…You _are_ just you. You, in your purest, brilliant form. You, maybe the only person on campus who works as much, as hard as I do. From the day I first saw you across campus, pencil in hand, I could see you were as driven as I was, as creative, as determined to strive for perfection, that you were going to be my equal. I was wrong. You are so much more than I’ll ever be.”  
  
Before you had a second to react, Alexander dropped one hand to the small of your back and cupped your cheek with the other, and pulled you against him as your lips met. It felt strange–heartbreakingly amazing, certainly, but different. All through life you’d been made of graphite; a little cold, a little hard, a little too much pressure and you’d snap. Now, with him, with Alexander, in this moment, you felt ink in your veins: strong, sure, powerful.  
  
The two of you kissed in front of the window, in your corner, in the library, at the university you both went to in the town you both loved. You were together and infinite. It was dark, only distant streetlights and skyscrapers illuminating your shared silhouette.  
  
It would have made for a pretty drawing.


End file.
